


Work It Like A Treat

by invisibledeity



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Anal Sex, Blowjobs, Casual Sex, Consensual Sex, Deepthroating, M/M, Porn Without Plot, Size Difference, nightclub culture, things done under the influence of alcohol and being so very touch-starved, things that happen in club back-alleys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-02
Updated: 2017-07-02
Packaged: 2018-11-22 12:01:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11379786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/invisibledeity/pseuds/invisibledeity
Summary: The light in the alley is low, an ethereal purple-blue that makes the man’s dark hair look like galaxies. He’s bowed in front of him in deference, in worship, and it feels utterly thrilling to have a man so much larger than him, so much taller, under his thumb like this.Prompto is lucky. Too lucky.In which Prompto and Gladio encounter each other at one of Insomnia's nightclubs. Written for Day 7 of PromptioWeek. Theme: Firsts.





	Work It Like A Treat

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, look, guys! Happy sex from me!

How in high hell did he end up here?

            It’s all Prompto’s giddy mind can think of while the dark-haired, muscle-bound man licks soft caresses up and down his chest. Hands travelling south to tease at his belt line. Doesn’t matter that it’s much colder outside than the club’s humid, heady interior. Doesn’t matter that he’s only wearing that thin punk vest that exposes his arms, matters even less that it’s currently pulled up around his pecs to expose his stomach too. The light in the alley is low, an ethereal purple-blue that makes the man’s dark hair look like galaxies. He’s bowed in front of him in deference, in worship, and it feels utterly thrilling to have a man so much larger than him, so much taller, under his thumb like this.

            Prompto is lucky. Too lucky. He lets out a low moan as the man toys with a nipple between gentle, teasing teeth, feels a throaty chuckle from him. Hot breath on his chilled skin.

            ‘Fuck – Gladio, don’t stop.’

            Gladio raises his head now, pins him harder against the brick wall. He feels the scrape and tear against his skin, his clothes, and it’s positively electric. Gladio’s amber-brown eyes are nothing but pools of black in this low light and if he didn’t already know the man, he’d think he looks dangerous.

            ‘Wasn’t planning on it, blondie.’ That _voice_ , gods, it sets his blood burning. He’s not sure whether he’s dizzier from the alcohol or from the attraction he’s feeling. Gladio all but purrs, and returns to worshipping his body. Prompto raises his head against the alleyway’s dark brick walls, not caring for once that it’s ruining his perfectly-groomed hair, and he lets his eyes shutter closed in bliss.

            A siren sound blares from the DJ desk back inside. It cuts through the air loud enough to let stragglers and smokers and those up to no good in the shadows like, well… like him and Gladio, know that last orders are up.

            ‘Anyone gonna be expecting you back?’ The man’s voice is a rough growl but his intent is nothing but soft. Prompto wants nothing more than to sink into it. His eyelids flicker as he gazes down at his mark – this beautiful man down on one knee for him.

            ‘No-one’s gonna miss me. Trust me.’

            And he presses closer, gyrates his hips against the hardness he feels in those leather pants. Smothers Gladio’s face in a fervent kiss, leaving trails of saliva when their lips part, streaking the man’s beard with the efforts of his devotion. He’s too earnest when he grips Gladio’s shaft through his pants. Too eager when he fusses with the belt and pulls his erection free to pump it savagely.

            But his frenetic, fast-paced nature is not something Gladio seems keen to complain about. The man is gasping and shuddering beneath his touch, practically in shock from the energy he’s giving out, and so he decides to up the ante. He drops to his knees. Takes Gladio’s generous cock in his mouth. Doesn’t give either of them time to think.

            He doesn’t think anyone’s watching. The smoker’s spot is round the other side of the building’s exterior, and they’re so out of the way in this little back alley here. People only slip out the back of the club to do shit like this, so anyone who does walk in on them are probably going to be more interested in each other than in him and Gladio. Or so he imagines. He isn’t thinking properly. His head’s all awhirl with processed beats and strobe light aftermath and spirits strong enough to slay a behemoth. Honestly, since he turned eighteen, he’d impressed himself with his ability to hold his liquor. He’ll have one hell of a hangover but he’s not going to be sick. He tenses his diaphragm, cuts off his gag reflex, takes Gladio’s cock in all the way down his throat. And oh, by the Six, does he ever enjoy those noises Gladio makes in return.

            While he’s sucking the man off, Gladio starts running his hands through his hair, stroking softly that tender stripe of skin at the nape of his neck, where hair turns to soft fuzz. It makes him shiver. Prompto _loves_ to be touched; it’s something he doesn’t get much of, and perhaps that’s why he looks for it in a place like this. But Gladio isn’t just a one-night-stand. Not for him. Ever since that first time, meeting him at the arcade while Noctis and he played truant from school, he’d been completely enraptured. Gladio was so _strong_ , had so much presence. And he was so very attractive.

            He’d fantasised about him for months. He hadn’t expected him to turn up at this club, however. It was just dumb luck. His kind of luck. And he had jumped at the chance, sidling in next to the bulky, ripped figure by the bar, challenging him to a row of shots because he figured the big guy would like a challenge.

            He’d been spot on.

_‘Hey, you’re Noct’s friend, arent’cha?’_

            The glow all throughout his body at being remembered.

            A half dozen drinks later, those words became _‘Fuck, you’re really cute, you know that?’_

            Prompto had blurted something out about _no, you’re the hot one here_ , then Gladio had kissed him on the lips. It had been a lot softer than he’d expected, so he reciprocated immediately, harder, more forcefully, surprising the man. The temperature in their corner of the club climbing like it was tarmac on a hot desert road.

            And then Prompto had dragged him outside, feet almost tripping up as he dodged round fellow drunk patrons and table edges, brain running so fast it was threatening to flatline entirely because _he couldn’t believe this was actually happening._

            He’d never done it himself before, but he knew this was where people went when they wanted to go one step further. And gods, it was so damn thrilling to finally get his turn.

            The muffled sound of the clubhouse beats and the distant revving of cars only adds to the excitement. He feels _filthy_ , and he fucking loves it.

            Gladio bucks into his mouth, groaning and gasping like he’s coming up for air after a long dive. Prompto holds those sculpted thighs, feels the tightness of the thick muscles there beneath the palms of his hands, and never wants to let go.

            When Gladio bucks a little too hard, it sends his head knocking against the brick and Gladio’s breath catches, he’s about to apologise. Prompto waves him away. Carries on sucking. He’s good, and he wants to prove it. He doesn’t even know if what he’s doing is right – he’s never done this before – but if the noises above him are any indication, he’s a fucking natural.

            Gladio strains and tenses, then pushes his shoulders firmly back. Prompto at first tries to resist, to carry on servicing his cock, but Gladio’s strong, and it’s equally frustrating and exciting when he’s forced away. Gladio holds him, stares intently into his eyes. He’s so close to the edge, sweat beading on his brow.

            ‘I wanna… I wanna finish inside you.’

            His stomach burns, so deeply, when he hears those words. He doesn’t waste time, scrabbling up from the filthy ground. ‘Oh gods, yes… Please.’

            Now Gladio’s the one fumbling with his belt. They’re both intoxicated from the euphoria, and Gladio’s too urgent, too forceful. Prompto loves it. He just wants to be used, filled, subjected to raw physicality, to make up for every moment he’s been forced to spend alone. He wants to do something _right_ , to give euphoria to the object of his affection. He wants to be objectified. To be the centre of attention.

            So many thoughts, all jumbled up. It’s almost conflicting, but he’s drunk and he supposes it’s fine to feel all of this desire at once. All these different things. Better to just accept it. He wants to be fucked, hard. That’s all it really comes down to.

            Gladio yanks his pants down, spins him round so he’s pushed up against the wall. Then he grabs his neck, angles his upper body down so he’s crudely bent over, ass exposed. He teases one finger inside his asshole and Prompto winces, not from pain but from anticipation. Then another finger, stretching him open. He doesn’t think Gladio has lube and to be honest, he hasn’t really thought that far himself. He’s new at this. But either way, there is wetness against the tight ring of muscle and he wonders if it’s spit. Then a foreign pressure against his hole. His nerves flutter. He arches up against it. Wanting. Begging.

            He’s had too many tequilas for this. He knows it’s going to hurt in the morning. But he doesn’t care. He lets Gladio push his way inside, shudders and squeaks as his insides stretch to accommodate the man’s considerable girth. He tries not to yell; he doesn’t want a club bouncer getting the wrong idea.

            The alcohol dulls most of the awkward pain, leaving just the shocking sensation of being stretched beyond belief and a pleasurable shiver of blood racing down to his groin. Gladio moves slowly at first, but he’s so close to finishing already that the motion turns quickly to hard thrusts. Then a hand snakes round to his own cock and pumps. He’s already so hard. So ready. Gladio barely needs to stroke forcefully more than a couple of times before he’s spurting his load across the alleyway floor. It’s so intense he can’t help pulsing and shuddering. The squeeze of his buttocks is too much for Gladio, who grunts and rams harder inside him one final time. He thinks something is tearing but he can’t be sure. Gladio comes inside him in a deep, husky groan.

            Neither of them are embarrassed about finishing so fast. It’s all so hard and so fast and the world is so hazy that it’s barely of any importance. There’s just the euphoria sizzling out into delicious embers around them.

Gladio pulls out, kisses his back, then gently pulls his vest back down. Big hands rubbing warm circles across his back. He’s not used to this much comfort. It’s enough to make him want to cry. But he doesn’t. He shudders one last time, then sorts his pants out. Turns back to face Gladio, threads lithe arms round those broad shoulders and buries himself in that bearded face.

            ‘If you had any idea how _hot_ you were…’ Gladio starts to say, but Prompto shuts him up with a kiss. For now Gladio is his, and he’s going to savour every second before he has to trudge on home to that empty house of his, silent and cold as a tomb. Right now, he feels good, burning with heat and energy. He feels just like mercury, his namesake.

            Eventually he breaks the embrace. Pulls his hair into some semblance of order. Grins wide.

            ‘See ya round, big guy.’

            ‘You bet.’


End file.
